Mortification of the Flesh

A couple of classes ago, I was showing my students a film from 1909 of Wilbur Wright and his airplane.  They mounted the camera on the plane to get what would be the first aerial shots.  One of the students confessed that while watching, he secretly wanted to see the plane crash, explaining "I guess I'm just a Jackass fan".  I took the opportunity to share my theory that the appeal of Jackass is similar to that of the martyrdom of saints - so you can suffer agonies by proxy.  That made the whole class wake up and pay attention.  They wanted to hear more, but then the bell rang.  It's fun to be the professor who is full of surprises.

The Self-Portrait

I tried really hard to make it look like the palm tree was growing out of my head, but I don't think it was successful.  Better luck next time.

Christmas Spirit

We spotted this house while walking around San Francisco, looking for views of the Bay.  To give you a sense of scale, the ornaments on the tree are beach balls.  The portion of the house behind the tree is covered in weather-proof wrapping paper and bows, while the "presents" on the sidewalk are concealing the huge lighting rig that illuminates the whole thing.  There is also an elaborate train set around the bottom of the tree.  I wonder what it's like to be their neighbour?

Overheard in the Park

Today Mollie and I couldn't help but overhear an interesting discussion in the park.  Three people, all generally regular-looking, were engaged in what seemed like a sensible conversation about a technical problem.  I'm no engineer, but their use of terminology expressed a level of professional knowledge.  However, as we approached it became clear that they were discussing a prototype for a machine to "attract UFOs".  Mollie and I slowed down so as to more effectively eavesdrop.  Seems like they have a plan that involves magnetic fields that will appeal to extraterrestrials.  I chose not to invade their privacy with a surreptitious cell phone photograph, as this would no doubt only confirm their conspiracy theory about "the watchers", or something.  

Steal This Plant

I have many stories to share from my Christmas/New Year/Etc. adventures.  Where to begin? In San Francisco I went for a lovely walk at the Botanical Garden, where these little signs tell you not to get any funny ideas.  Plant banditry will not be tolerated.

Curse of the Merengue

I have something to confess.  I do not like Latin music.  I know it's adored by most of the world's population, and I have tried to appreciate it, but it in no way speaks to me.  Many have asked, with the best of intentions: 

"Do you want to come hear this amazing Brazilian singer?" (No, I don't.) 

"We're going Salsa dancing, why don't you come along?"  (Because it will lead to great suffering.)

"Oh, but this band from Colombia is amazing - I'm certain you'll like them." (Your certainty is baseless.)

So, I'm visiting a friend in Washington DC, and she took me to her swanky office party at the World Bank. The party was fabulous - the food was amazing, from the red velvet cupcakes to the ridiculous array of martinis, and Santa was in attendance.  The dancing was also terrific because the DJ understood the crowd and played fun pop music from all over the world.  As one might expect, every fourth or fifth song was a Latin American number, and in the midst of it all, my friend admitted to me that she didn't much care for Latin music.  I was thrilled to tell her that I felt the same, and we spent the next ten minutes commiserating about being a misunderstood minority in a world where Salsa dancing is a default activity for the young professional demographic.  Then she turned around and introduced me to a colleague of hers.  We started chatting, and the colleague's friend asked me to dance.  Being in a party mood, I said yes, but then realized with horror what I had agreed to when he asked 

"Do you know the Merengue?" 

My heart sank. 

"No, no I don't." 

(Actually, I have been taught the Merengue many times, but my otherwise excellent physical memory fails me when it comes to Latin dancing.) So, I was polite and learned the Merengue.  Again.  It was not fun.  A mere two hours later, I do not remember the steps.  I think the ghost of Carmen Miranda heard my complaining and wanted to teach me a lesson, but I'm still not sure what the lesson is. Will this nightmare never end?  

Family Photos

My Dad has entered the Skype age, and he was so excited about our first video chat, he took a picture.  In a similar vein, the other day I was Skyping with another friend, and she held her digital camera's display screen up to her webcam so I could watch a video of her daughter doing cute stuff.  Why have two cameras when you can have eleven?